


You're Too Good For This Place

by Caffiend



Category: British Actor RPF, High-Rise (2015) RPF, Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial, Tom Hiddleston Fandom
Genre: Arson, BDSM, Breaking of Ming vases, Cruelty, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Domination, Excellent gin drinks, F/M, Hand-feeding, Heavy Drinking, Humiliation, Laing's a neurosurgeon, Medical Care, Oral Sex, Pampering, Rough Sex, Seizures, Sex Games, Sexual Assault, class warfare, glassing a bitch, the High-Rise as an entity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:50:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiend/pseuds/Caffiend
Summary: In which the cold Dr. Robert Laing saves Ella's life. So she tries to save his in return. But can anyone pry him loose from the ugly grip of the High-Rise?This is a bit AU from my other High-Rise stories- no Ari or Angelica. Which leaves a huge hole in The Doctor Laing that perhaps can be filled.Trigger warning: sexual assault





	You're Too Good For This Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Candy Flaps](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Candy+Flaps).



> When I wrote "Dr. Laing's Loose End," it was my first fanfiction effort ever. So naturally, like everyone else starting out, no one really commented for a bit. Except for Candy Flaps. Every chapter, she made sure to add a funny note and offer support. Slowly, this wonderful community grew around me and I adore you all. But Candy Flaps has never failed to make us all laugh our asses off, and she always comes up with the best nicknames. (Hagnolia? Pandy?) Sweet girl, your birthday is April 23rd and this chapter is just barely going to be on time. But I love and appreciate you for so many beautiful things that you've written. Happiest of birthdays and thank you for being in my life.

"...with me, Ella?"

"Mmmmhm." Pause. Shit, what did she just agree to? Ella forced a smile, "The name of this place again?"

Her partner scoffed and got up, fetching a cup of tea. "I knew you weren't listening."

"I was!" protested Ella, "I was just thinking about this new case, too, and, uh..."

The cup of tea dumped on the table splashed over the edge of the cup and nearly nailed her white silk blouse. "Careful, you ass! I have court this afternoon!"

Janet was her partner in Fitzgerald & Allerton, the two women finally setting up their own practice after years of servitude to one of the bigger litigation firms in London. They might have been brilliant solicitors, but it took quite a while for them to realize they lacked the necessary element- testosterone- to climb higher in that completely misogynistic group. Fortunately, they'd developed a good reputation by then and clients were coming in faster than they could handle them. 

"Serves you right. God, you never listen to a thing I say!" Janet was huffing a little dramatically, but Ella knew it was just to cement her promise to accompany her that night.

"Fine," Ella snarled. "Just tell me where to meet you." Rolling her eyes as her friend's pretty face brightened, she wrote down the directions to a place called the High-Rise.

 

Looking doubtfully out the window of her Uber, Ella straightened her skirt. The hulking concrete monolith looming up before her did not look like a luxury residence. It looked like a prison. An insane asylum. A place that didn't welcome you so much as crush you under the weight of it. Shivering as the cool air swept through her open door, Ella stepped out and paid her driver with a distracted smile. 

Standing next to her for a moment, Mohammed skeptically eyed the hideous High-Rise, turning slightly to see the steel and concrete skeletons of two more buildings just like it under construction. "You want I should come back for you later?" He'd driven Ella many times before and really liked the pretty girl. She was short, and with the dark hair and pale skin of her Black Irish roots. 

Pursing her lips, Ella put on her best "Don't fuck with me, I'm a Barrister," expression and nodded decisively. "I suspect this is going to be a late night," she side-eyed him meaningfully, "I'm here as Janet's wingman."

Mohammed rolled his eyes. Janet was definitely the life of the party, right down to vomiting out the window of his car. He learned the hard way the first time to keep the window down for her, no matter how cold it got. "Eh. Text me anyway, I'm just going home."

"Say 'hi' to Aasma for me," Ella agreed, straightening her shoulders and walking purposefully for the double glass doors.

Her driver got back in his car, watching her entry into the building. Looking around the cold circle of concrete and steel, he felt himself shudder and eagerly left the parking lot. Watching the ugly structures grow smaller in his rearview mirror, he whispered, "Allahu Akbar." He pressed on the gas pedal, suddenly eager to see the sweet face of his wife.

 

Given Janet's exuberant description, Ella was kind of expecting streamers and champagne the moment she walked into the lobby of the High-Rise. But it all looked surprisingly normal, aside from a tall, nasty-looking man stationed by the main lift. Eyeing her pretty green cocktail dress doubtfully, he stepped to block her way.

With an irritable sniff, Ella stood as high as her four-inch heels would let her and sneered at him. "I'm here for the Newcomer's Party," she said flatly, hazel eyes daring him to argue with her. 

"Oh, Cosgrove, this is my plus one, Ella!" Janet was suddenly beside her and given her giggling, likely well down the road to being completely shit-faced by the end of the evening. With a scowl, the big man moved aside as the two women entered the lift. 

The searing chrome interior made Ella squint uncomfortably. "Jesus, shiny enough? I can't believe you ride this thing every day without retinal damage!" Janet was swaying, humming a bit and admiring her reflection in one of the many mirrored surfaces in the little box. stepping over to look at her friend's reflection, Ella frowned. "Girl, are you on something besides a couple of badly mixed cocktails?" Janet, blonde and pretty, was disheveled, eyes bloodshot and lipstick already smeared.

"No, stupid!" she sniped, trying to straighten up and tidy her hair. "Royal's parties are always a madhouse, I hear. And this one is certainly living up to his reputation."

Ella just barely smothered a groan. 'What a perfect shitestorm,' she thought bitterly, 'my one free evening and I'm spending it babysitting Janet.' This tended to be a mutual issue when they were at Oxford together, but at some point, Ella had learned to hold her drink. She didn't drink _less,_ she just handled it better. Janet always teased her that it was 'the Irish" in her.

The mirrored door opened and a cacophony of noise, heat, and the smell of weed, booze, and expensive perfume assaulted her. With a squeal, her partner dragged her into the huge entry room, heading for one of the many bars. Ella sighed and stiffened her spine. Maybe a glass or two of good gin would make her feel better. Dutifully taking two shots with Janet, she swallowed deeply and shook her head. Okay. This _could_ be fun... This hope was immediately dashed when a grey-haired man with a small entourage swept up to them majestically.

"Janet. Darling. You came." His voice was low, cultured in that 'I'm very rich and this is all very tedious' sort of way, and it grated on Ella's ears like a steak knife.

"Mr. Royal, hello..." Janet purred, instantly taking point as Successful Young Solicitor On Her Way Up. "May I introduce my partner in our law firm, Ella Fitzgerald? I'm so at home here now, that I'm trying to convince her to join us."

Feeling her spine stiffen, Ella tried not to look at her incredulously. Move _here?_ To this concrete dump? 'Yeah, as in _never,_ ' she thought, before pasting on a professional smile. "Mr. Royal. I believe I just read a cover story about you in 'Architect's Digest'." She had. It had been a battered copy in her dentist's office and there was nothing else to read and her phone battery had died, so... But no need to tell him that. As she expected, Royal chuckled, waving his hand grandly.

"Heavens. It's difficult to keep track, dear. But I do hope it was not terribly dull." His tone was deeply self-satisfied, and the girl eyed him shrewdly. She had his measure now, and he was just as vain and entitled as she'd expected.

Her voice was sweet now, sweet as poison as she accepted a glass of champagne and drank half of it, vaguely registering that mixing her drinks never ended well. But Ella was feeling reckless and she continued. "Not at all, Mr. Royal. The article focused on your classist system of structure here at the High-Rise. It was... quite interesting."

The sudden silence around them told her this was not an auspicious start. Royal's dark brown eyes seemed to go black as he leaned in. "It is for the benefit of all, dear. Why torment the lower classes with accommodations and amenities they can't afford or bore the elite with the small, meaningless needs of the poor?" 

Janet may have been already soused, but she knew enough to lean in and take her friend's arm with a giggle. "Oh, no serious talk tonight, Ella! We're here for fun! Thank you again Mr. Royal! El- come here, you have to see the art collection here, it's..." Allowing herself to be dragged away, the girl eyed Royal one more time, unsettled by his rodent-like black gaze. Just before she turned away, she caught a much taller figure behind him, beautifully suited in a bespoke charcoal grey with a blue tie that matched his eyes. Arresting eyes, staring at her thoughtfully as if he'd found a new and entertaining toy.

Sidestepping a recessed section of the room filled with couches and the people upon them playing a modified version of "Spin the Bottle," she asked, "Janet, who was the ridiculously tall man behind Royal? Blue eyes, dark hair?"

"Fucking gorgeous?" Janet interrupted. "Dr. Robert Laing. He's one beautiful, scary bastard. Lives across the hall from me but every time I say hello I can tell he's trying to remember if we've ever met before." She gave a humorless chuckle and grabbed another glass off a waiter's tray. "It's only insulting given that he's fucked every other woman on five floors- if the gossips are correct." 

Ella could tell it was a bit humiliating to the blonde, who was lovely and used to men fawning over her. "Aw, kitten. You're the only one who hasn't bedded the doctor who by now has no doubt 3,006 STDs? Poor baby..." she tickled her sulking friend who burst into giggles. Unfortunately, this also warranted a trip to the loo for her friend. As Janet made her way to the bathroom, she sighed and looked around for the nearest bar. Heading for it decisively, Ella didn't notice another set of those infuriating recessed stairs and felt herself lose her balance and fall forward- just to be caught with a solid arm across her ribs and gently settled upright again, one hand on her arm.

"Careful, darling. The penthouse is full of this kind of architectural minefields." The Voice... It had to be said in capital letters because it was exquisite, low, spoken right into her ear for clarity and purring by the end of the sentence.

Chagrined at her involuntary shudder, Ella cleared her throat. "Oh. Well, thank you, I have abysmal spatial awareness. I appre-"

"You're Janet's friend, correct?" The tall man hadn't let go of her arm and he casually took a drink as he watched her.

"She doesn't think you know who she is," the girl blurted, "ironic since she's lived across the hall from you for what- three weeks?"

Wincing as the Doctor Robert Laing threw back his dark head and laughed, Ella pulled her arm away from his warm hand. 'Nice word vomit,' she thought, 'smooth, girl, really fucking smooth.'

He collected himself enough to smile down at her. "It was not intentional, I assure you," the tinge of humor in his tone made that blasted, mesmerizing Voice even more beautiful. "I tend to be distracted when I'm on my way to or home from the hospital. Surely you've heard that surgeons have no social skills?"

Feeling herself relax, she tilted her chin higher to look at him more closely. "What kind of surgeon, Dr. Laing?"

Pulling her gently over to the bar, Laing leaned in and murmured something to the bartender. Turning back to her, he answered, "I'm a neurosurgeon. My main focus is epilepsy and stroke victims." Wide hazel eyes staring up at him, Ella felt a chill ripple through her. 

"Really," she managed, "are you doing research or mainly treatment?"

"Both," Laing answered, taking two squat crystal tumblers from the bartender. "Here, darling. Try this."

Examining the proffered glass, she queried, "And this is?"

"I noticed that you ordered gin before," he answered easily, "this, my dear, is William Chase. The most magnificent gin on this continent, I am certain." Waiting as Ella accepted the glass and took a cautious sip, he grinned as she gave a little involuntary moan. "Precisely, darling. Note the flavours of Juniper, apple, and elderflower alongside subtle citrus- taste that?" He chuckled again as the girl nodded vigorously, taking a longer sip.

"Glorious," she sighed, "and damn you for addicting me to a brand I'm quite certain I can't afford."

Laing laughed again, a little surprised. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed, certainly not this much in such a short period of time. This charming thing- he'd noticed Ella as she'd entered the penthouse and looked around her with a jaundiced eye. She wasn't the silly socialite type or the bitter hungry sort intent on getting her victory fuck after a vicious day at the office. She was... different. A beautiful, silky green dress that clung to her short body and lighted her eyes, making them mesmerizing. Suddenly, Laing pictured sucking a mark into the pale skin of her neck. The image was so arousing that he gritted his teeth, taking another drink and casting his gaze elsewhere to regain some control. He watched as Janet was pulled giggling into one of Royal's many bedrooms by that idiot Pangbourne, no doubt using his patented "I'm a doctor and I'll sweep you off your feet" line. His opinion of the girl dropped further. Leaving this pretty Ella alone, to be savaged by the wildlife of the High-Rise. Looking back down at her, he smiled involuntarily to see the look of bliss on her face as she sampled another sip of the gin. "I appreciate your..." he sought for the right word, "...unabashed enjoyment of life. It's a rare quality in these circles."

Ella shrugged, eyeing him slyly. "An té nach bhfuil láidir, ní foláir dó bheith glic."

One elegant brow rose as Robert smiled down at her. "Ah, Irish Gaelic. And it means?"

"Paraphrased," she said, "she who is not strong must be clever."

And there he was, laughing for the third time with this charming creature. They found a quieter perch, chatting about his advances in epilepsy surgery and her success in child abuse cases. Laing was intrigued that she seemed to know so much about epilepsy and seizure disorders. Returning with their third- or was it fourth, he couldn’t remember?- gin and tonic, he caught her looking around the room. Robert was shocked to feel his heart sink. Was she thinking of leaving him so soon? "What are you looking for, darling?"

"Oh!" she startled briefly as the doctor suddenly loomed over her, smiling as she took the drink he offered her. "No, I was actually looking for Janet. I love that girl, but I'm pretty sure she's ditched me. Not like it's the first time, that minx-" Ella hastily shut up. She didn't want this keen-eyed doctor who seemed to see far too much to think her best friend was a slut. She knew how gossip flew in creepy, cloistered little holes like this. But he was smiling at her calmly, without judgement.

"I believe your friend has fallen to the charms of Dr. Pangbourne," Laing said easily, "I noticed them heading into a guest bedroom an hour or so ago." He watched her flush uncomfortably.

Tossing back the rest of her latest (was it the fourth or fifth?) gin and tonic, Ella stood. "Well, then I must be getting home. I've had a long day in court, and..." 

 

Sometimes, Ella could tell when it was about to happen. There was a smell of burning feathers and the same words every time- "And that's when I fell off the swing, and..." the conversation she'd been having with her sister the first time Ella had a seizure at the age of 12. But here... _Oh, god_ \- she thought and was gone.

 

It was dim and cool when Ella woke, blessed silence and she was resting against a comfortable suede couch. Trying to sit up, heart pounding, she looked around, the aura around the light fixture's glow hurting her. Closing her eyes and rubbing them, the girl stubbornly attempted to stand up.

"Easy, darling. Rest for a moment. You're safe." 

For some reason, that last sentence made her want to cry. There was never a moment after a seizure where she felt safe. Confused. Disoriented. Exposed. Frightened. But never safe. Forcing her eyes open, Ella found the concerned face of Laing hovering over her. "Where'm... Where am I?"

It was her soft, uncertain voice that melted the last frozen corner of the Doctor Robert Laing's heart. "You're in my flat, Ella. I wanted to keep you under observation and the noise and the stink of the penthouse was not the place. i was concerned that if you came back to consciousness there the chaos might set you off into another seizure." Producing a penlight, he quickly examined her eyes and ran one cool hand over her forehead. "Your temperature's back down. Pupils no longer expanded. How do you feel?"

Forcing a smile, Ella tried to smother her embarrassment. It failed. "Embarrassed," she admitted, "I'm sorry to cause you all this trouble, Dr. Laing, I'll-"

"Shhhh..." his beautiful voice was a soothing whisper. "Just relax darling, I have you." Helping her sit up and putting a pillow behind her back he put one hand on the top of the couch by her shoulder and the other on the arm, caging her in. But surprisingly, the girl didn't feel trapped. "Do you usually feel stiff after a seizure? Would you like some paracetamol?"

"Just some water, please," she answered in a small voice. But Laing already had some ready and handed her the glass. "How fortunate," Ella ventured, "that I happened to be speaking to a neurosurgeon who specializes in seizure disorders as I had one?"

Robert chuckled, watching her finish the water before taking the glass back. "If it had to happen, I am very pleased to have been there to render assistance." His handsome face twisted in distaste. "I'm not sure anyone else there was sober enough to notice." He led her through a series of professional questions to determine her well-being, then leaned back and smiled in approval. "You're in excellent shape for a girl who suffered a full tonic-clonic episode a couple of hours ago." Watching Ella squirm uncomfortably, he ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it. "Darling, no one even noticed. We were somewhat secluded and I carried you down to my flat as soon as you were postictal. Now..." Robert stood, rolling up the cuffs on his pristine white dress shirt. "You must be starving, your blood sugar has certainly dropped. Can you eat?"

Ella cringed, "Please, Dr. Laing, I'm very appre-"

He laughed again, the smile warming those sharp, high cheekbones and the usually cool set to his mouth. "I believe we've at least moved to first names, don't you think? This is no trouble, darling." Laing paused for a moment, and almost looked lost for a moment, "It's a pleasure... I don't invite many people in."

Staring at his beautiful, troubled face, she wondered if he meant his home or his life, or both. "Well, thank you, then," Ella finally offered, "I would love something to eat if it's not too much effort."

 

'Blast that beautiful man!' Ella thought, when she'd agreed to something to eat, she didn't realize that The Doctor Laing intended to hand-feed her, which he did, carefully bringing slices of fragrant cheese and crisp crackers to her lips, then a sip of fresh-squeezed orange juice, then grapes so cool and firm that they burst in her mouth with an intensity that made her lashes flutter. It all tasted so good... When she had a seizure whilst alone, she was always too tired or sore to do anything but crawl into bed after bandaging anything that might have been hurt in a fall. To eat something delicious and smile as this kind and gorgeous man lightly told her about some of the ridiculous personalities at the High-Rise was such a luxury.

"You're spoiling me," she finally observed after pleading she was full.

Laing looked her over, first clinically and then in a darker, more predatory fashion. "You don't think you deserve it, Ella?"

Shaking her head, mortified, black hair falling over her eyes, she mumbled, "You don't even know me- we just met tonight and you've had to nurse me back to health- you should send me a bill." Ella's weak attempt at humor did not go over well. Laing's face darkened and he looked her over coldly.

"What a pity such a clever girl is also such a stupid one."

Ella was outraged, "Excuse me? Who do you thi-"

Laing continued on, ignoring her. "You're brilliant, devoted to your work and loyal to your friends. You are incandescently lovely and yet you don't think you deserve to be cared for?" He made a sound of disgust. 

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" She hissed, infuriated, "I didn't ask you to save me! I don't need you to save me, Dr. Robert Laing! I save myself all the time and very well, thank you, so you can-" Making an infuriated noise, he lunged forward and shut her up with a kiss. 

A spectacular kiss.

It was hard, slanting over her lips as his tongue slickly moved between them. She could feel Laing hum in appreciation as he traced over her teeth and tongue, the sound vibrating against her sensitive mouth. One hand fisted her hair, just hard enough to let her know he meant business without really hurting her. At the same time, his arm slid around her waist and hoisted Ella abruptly to her knees, putting her level with his foot-taller self. After savaging her mouth with clear relish, the doctor moved to her neck, running his teeth gently along the line of her jaw and then placing a sharp bite into the soft skin of her throat. Pushing her backward on to the couch again, Robert rose over her, blocking out the light so that all she could see was his long and powerful body, hovering as if to pounce and shred her to pieces.

"I'm going to fuck you, Ella," he said, voice turned guttural and greedy, jaw tight. "Unless you tell me 'no' right now, I won't... I can't stop."

Her pretty eyes were wide, shocked, he noted. But not frightened. It would take a great deal to scare this tiny thing and he felt a grudging respect for that. Finally, Ella took a deep breath. "You don't have to stop. I want to. I want... I want you."

Groaning, he swept her small body up in his arms and moved to his bedroom with unseemly haste, not quite throwing her on his bed and quickly topping her, pulling her dress away from her breasts as he bit one, then sucked the nipple of the other, enjoying how she jumped, then moaned and held his dark head to her pale skin. Playing with them, pushing them together so he could suck one and then the other, Robert enjoyed the way Ella's legs suddenly tightened against the small of his back, her high heels digging in uncomfortably. Groaning, he pulled back and harshly yanked one leg straight, pulling off her shoe and baring his teeth, grinning at her look of alarm before delicately gliding those even, white canines against her calf, her inner thigh and then straight to her heated center.

"Oh! OmigodRobertwaitstop!" Ella was desperately trying to recover, lost in this melee of Laing's lips and mouth, then his teeth and tongue when he began to punish her skin and breasts. And now... Jesus. She couldn't remember the last time she'd let a man go down on her. Most acted like it was a chore and she was terribly shy about it anyway. But this man... Laing was eagerly licking and sucking her soft lips, running the harsh point of his tongue in the sensitive furrow between them, dipping into her channel, enjoying the way she stiffened and gasped while holding her legs open. 

She nearly came when Laing's beautiful face rose from her pussy, chin shining with her slick and his gaze feral. "Delicious. Be a good girl, now. Be still and let Daddy enjoy you." 

Oh, and he did, pushing his stubbled chin into her soft opening and making Ella nearly scream with the intensity, then sliding up to fasten his lips around her clit and suck it just a bit harder than was comfortable, the shock of the pain nearly sending her upright as her stomach muscles clenched frantically. One broad hand pushed between her breasts, shoving her back onto the unfeasibly comfortable mattress. Laing was tearing his expensive clothing off, his cufflinks and Rolex flying onto the floor as his hunger was terrifyingly clear. And oh, he was so perfect- a wide set of shoulders with muscles moving sleekly under smooth skin as he bared himself to her. When Robert lifted his hips to pull his trousers down, she blushed at how loud her gasp was. Of course, the conceited bastard heard it, a wide grin spreading across his unfairly handsome face as The Doctor Laing chuckled. "It's for you, darling. All for you. I'm going to make you feel so..." he placed a hard kiss on one nipple, then moved to suck the other, "...so very good. You're going to come screaming for Daddy. I can tell."

It was more of a pained yelp than a scream as the wide head of his cock first breached her entrance. It had been a long time- embarrassingly long and frankly, so was he, but Ella gripped his shoulders, nails digging mindlessly into his back as Laing's agile hips swirled, easing his way in, out, then in again, just a bit further each time until she could feel him nearly tear her in half. "Just- god, Robert! Just- slowly... okay?" Ella was moaning, not sure if it was in pain or neediness, but she tried to force herself to concentrate. What did Janet call this? "Cock-drunk." Oh, Ella was cock-drunk. Inebriated on this lovely, thick thing pushing inside her and spreading her slick walls wide to accommodate him. This beautiful, terrifying man was the perfect combination of cruelty and kindness- quite aware that his fat cock was hurting her, but holding himself still- muscled arms shaking with the effort- to let her strained body accommodate him.

"Such a good girl," he whispered, hot breath on her skin and the purring of his approval making her shudder, "let Daddy in, now. Open wide." Grunting at the sudden, shocking gush of slick from her, Robert began moving his hips, pushing and pulling with some force and effort still as her little body struggled to hold him. Finally, he adjusted by going back onto his heels and pulling Ella up to straddle him, her pretty eyes wide and pale skin flushed. Deliberately circling his hips as his big hands went to her ass and squeezed, he smiled devilishly. "I'm going to rip you in half, baby. And you're going to thank me for it."

A sharp scream flew from her mouth as Robert did as threatened, driving his hard shaft up so high inside her that she choked, somehow certain he was coming up her throat. He slowed then, squeezing the soft globes of her ass as he hoisted her up and down on his cock, grunting each time he bottomed out inside her. Ella wrapped both arms around his shoulders, trying to stabilize herself as Laing continued driving inside her, the sweat from them both sliding and sticking as he moved those cruelly agile hips faster. Her nipples were painfully oversensitive from rubbing against the sparse hair on his chest and finally Ella bit into the thick muscle of his shoulder, trying not to scream.

Laing laughed breathlessly against the pain of her vicious little teeth. "You're going to come now, you juicy, dirty, delectable little bitch. Do you hear me? You will come immediately- Right." Ella screamed in shock as he lifted and dropped her, the head of him slamming painfully into her cervix. "The. Fuck. Now." Each word punctuated by another harsh thrust until her back spasmed, as hard as when she seized but this was so good and nothing like that and she would remember this forever. His scent, the warmth of his skin, the guttural groan this beautiful man gasped into her ear and the shocking heat- the burn of his come tearing through her sore channel and overheating her into a wild, painful, wonderful orgasm. Ella screamed and moaned. She shuddered and gasped and he laughed breathlessly and forced her up and down again, prolonging their finish until she clenched so violently that it pushed his cock out of her. Laing's long arms wrapped around her tightly, sealing them skin to skin as they mindlessly rocked back and forth, faces buried in the other's neck as they rode out the last shuddering of their finish.

 

Some time later, after a mutual shower that moved to appreciative kisses and caresses and then to another round under the sheeting water and then a gentle massage with coconut oil, Ella jumped as she heard her phone buzz. "Robert, where's my phone?"

Laing frowned looking at his watch, reading 5:15 am. "In the great room, darling. I'll get it for you." Ella shamelessly admired the flex and release of his gorgeously sculpted ass as he left the bedroom, gloriously naked. Smiling, she relaxed for a moment. Every part of her was alternately sore as hell but wonderfully relaxed. This ended quickly as she listened to her message.

"El- are you still here?" Janet was clearly crying, "I want to go and they won't let me. There's three of them and I don't- I think they all fucked me and I want-“ her frightened words flew away as her desperate sobs broke the connection.

Ella was already out into the main room, yanking her underwear and dress on and frantically looking for her shoes and purse. Robert followed more slowly, zipping up his pants, chest still bare. She looked over, a little incredulous as she realized he was hesitating. "Robert, I have to get her! I'm going right now you know she doesn't want this! What the fuck is happening here?" She died off as his expression closed against her, set and cold.

"Darling," her heart hurt. His voice had never been more beautiful and compelling. "I'm sure she's fine. I'm sure Janet just got in a little over her head, and-"

"OVER HER HEAD?" Ella screeched, "You don't know shit about Janet! She would never agree to a- a- a fucking FOURSOME! NEVER!" Whirling, she furiously made her way for the door, trying to unlock all the confusing series of deadbolts and security chains Laing had, thinking feverishly why would a man need six fucking locks on his door in a high-security luxury complex? A big hand moved over her shoulder and finished the series, opening the door and ushering her outside.

"Let's go find her, then." It was all he said, but Ella found the same huge surge of affection swamping her again. Fidgeting anxiously in the lift, she ignored all the obvious bite marks on her neck and breasts, though she noted with a certain satisfaction that Robert's throat looked a tad mottled, as well.

Charging into the penthouse again, her lips set in a firm line. "Which bedroom did you see her go into?"

Sighing, Laing reluctantly led the way. Sadly, it was just as Janet had described in her desperate little message. She was wrapped in a sheet on the bed, drinking something and crying. A naked Pangbourne and another man- Wilder? Yes, the failed documentary filmmaker was lounging on the couch, passing a joint between them and a half-dressed man was just zipping up his pants as he stood over her.

A vase flew through the air and crashed just above the men's heads. 

"Get the FUCK AWAY FROM JANET OR I SWEAR I WILL CUT YOUR FUCKING THROATS!" The furious scream from Ella was nothing like the sweet, beautiful girl in his bed earlier, Laing realized, and hastened after her as the small girl yanked the man a head taller than her away from her sobbing friend, then hit a laughing Wilder across the face as hard as she could, sending a spurt of blood from his nose. To his nauseous surprise, Robert realized the man she’d yanked away from Janet was Royal.

The architect looked up in some annoyance. "That was a 15th century Ming vase, you worthless sow!" 

Holding a shard of the priceless vase to his throat, Ella hissed, "And I will fucking glass you with it, bitch, unless you get away from my friend. FUCKING NOW!" she screamed when Royal seemed to pause in surprise.

Looking back crossly at a frozen Laing, he drawled, "Unless it's time to share this cunt with the rest of us, get her out of here. Ah. Well, I'm done now anyway. Take this thing away. She's all used up." A sick glint hit his beetle-like gaze. "Why don't you leave her little friend here? If she wants to scream, we can certainly accommodate her." His oily chuckle was cut off as Ella's hand slashed across his face, flaying a cut open from jaw to the eyelid. 

"You pathetic fuck." Her voice was shaking, but Ella's rage seared them all, even Laing who still stood frozen by the door.

He wanted to help her- he did. But Royal... he had been like a father to him. He'd-

"Robert?" the heartbroken appeal in her voice brought him up short. "Please help me get Janet out of here?"

Numbly, and far too late and his timing was quite clear by the sorrow in his Ella's eyes, Robert pushed the other men away from her and lifted Janet into his arms, Ella hurriedly wrapping a blanket around her. As they turned to leave the room, the architect's hissing voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Son." Royal struggled upright, one liver-spotted hand against his bloody cheek. "I am _very_ disappointed in you."

Ella watched disbelievingly as Laing almost turned back before she yanked on his arm. "Robert," she pulled his face to look at hers. "We have to go. Now. Please?" Part of the robotic blankness left him then, and he nodded as he took them from the nightmarish confines of the penthouse and to the ground floor. Janet was still crying in soft gasps and he could barely hear Ella's soft murmurs as he stared at his reflection in the chromed surround.

True to his word, Mohammed had answered Ella's call and when hearing her teary attempt at speech simply cut her off with, "I will be right there, Aleaziz. Be strong." He must have driven like the wind because his little Toyota was just pulling into the parking lot when the lift finally landed at the ground floor with a stately chime. 

Laing carried Janet to the car, carefully laying her along the backseat and blindly shoving a fistful of cash at the startled driver. "Get them... get them out of here."

Nodding, Mohammed eyed him for a moment before getting back in. Ella, who'd been watching the curious exchange suddenly realized Robert wasn't coming with them.

"Robert?"

Her voice was small, but it stopped the huge man dead in his tracks, his head dropping, refusing to look at her. He felt her hand on his back, warming his chilled skin. "Robert? Please... you should come with us. You should." Ella couldn't think of the right combination of words to explain that the hellish concrete pile was somehow alive. That it wanted him. It wanted all of them. "Please?"

Finally forcing himself to turn around, Laing pasted a painfully false smile on his beautiful face. "You'll be fine, darling." His hand briefly caressed her cheek once before dropping. "Just... you have to go now. You're too good for this place."

How could he stay? Ella's pretty eyes spurted tears, trailing down her cheeks as he turned and strode back to the High-Rise.

 

It was a month later when Laing shakily finished his last surgery. It would have to be his last. He couldn't concentrate and he hadn't slept in days and the nightmares... well, he thought they were nightmares but sometimes he woke up with the blood still on his hands so he wasn't-

"Dr. Laing?" The cautious voice of his medical assistant broke his fevered thoughts. "You have a message. A young lady dropped it by. She said it was important?"

He wanted to scream at the stupid bitch- tell her that her very voice was carving a furrow through his brain and to shut the fuck up and- Robert turned around with a stuff smile pasted on his gaunt face. "Thank you, Mary Ann. That will be all for today. We'll go over the post-operative tomorrow." The woman was smart enough to simply nod and make herself scarce, and Laing leaned against the wall and opened the envelope.

"Dear Robert,

I know we only knew each other for one night. But I saw inside you. Just the way you knew all of me. Your eyes were like a lake I used to swim in as a child. I always thought if I dived deep enough, I would come up into the other side of the world. You are not a monster.

Janet's getting better. You probably noticed the moving men getting her things out of that concrete hell.

You don't belong there. I don't know what happened to you to make you think you do, but you helped a stupid girl who drank too much and had a rather noisy, horrible seizure and saved her life. You saved my life.

Please let me save yours. I've enclosed my address, you can just walk away. You can, Robert. Nothing there is worth keeping I swear to you. I'll be waiting. I hope you'll come.

Love- because I'm not afraid to say it even if it sounds mad- love, Ella."

 

It was two weeks later when Ella let herself into her flat. She was soul-sick. Bone tired and heartbroken. Sighing and kicking off her heels, she absently shed her suit jacket and turned on the BBC while she started heating up some takeaway.

"Firefighters raced to the scene of a shockingly superheated blaze at a giant luxury complex called the High-Rise today. The fire apparently started on the top floor- the penthouse occupied by the controversial architect of the High-Rise series of buildings, Anthony Royal. According to a filmed message released just before the fire, it was set by Royal himself, claiming ownership of the building and the occupants within. Fire officials can't tell us yet how many people were trapped inside the building when Royal set off the charges that created the blaze..."

For a moment, the crashing of the plate she was holding blocked out all the other noise in the flat, Ella sobbing as she watched the coverage of the inferno gobbling up the concrete hell. Until she heard the knock again, once, twice, and then a deep and sonorous voice. 

"Ella?"

Breath hitching once again, she began crying with happiness, hands shaking so hard it took three tries to open the door to find the tall man waiting for her.

 

"Allahu Akbar" Arabic for "God is Great"

"Aleaziz" Arabic for "dear"

 


End file.
